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[optikon]

[ he's spent his time since arrival largely in a sort of traumatized fugue, locked in his bedroom in the housing he was provided, probably alarming and upsetting his housemates. if martin were here, he'd have probably already adjusted-- gently bullying jon into cleaning up, feeding him tea, making him sleep. holding him when the nightmares started. .. jon likes to think that he doesn't take martin for granted any longer, and hasn't in months, but.. god, it's so hard not having him here.

still, he'd begun slowly to get himself together, even to make a foray or two onto the network to learn what he could. and now.. now he needs to address the metaphorical elephant in the room. ]

My name is Jonathan Sims. At home, I was the head archivist of an organization called the Magnus Institute, which is an academic institution dedicated to researching the esoteric and paranormal. [ which is.. true, in that he was the archivist.. before the end of the world. ] With that said, the archives took, researched, and filed statements from those that had paranormal experiences they wished to unburden themselves of.

As it appears that I'll be working in a similar capacity here, I'd like to continue my work from home. Therefore, if you're interested in committing your personal experience(s) to paper or to email, I'd be glad to collect them. However, please don't record them in audio or video format.

If you'd like to discuss the details of what that entails, I'll answer any questions I can. Thank you.


[ ooc; anyone in maurtia falls 006 may also find their secretive hobo-gremlin housemate finally out of his room, showered and looking like he's in withdrawal as he attempts to make tea in the kitchen for himself without shaking to pieces. good luck with that. ]

Comments

[constantdick]

where are you right now?

[optikon]

In the government housing I was assigned.
In Maurtia Falls.

[constantdick]

oh yeah? what house #? I'm in 7

[optikon]

Are you there now?
I'll meet you there.

[ no, that was not an answer, but.. ]

[constantdick]

yeah alright. we can go from here to a nearby pub

[optikon]

[ jon doesn't like.. actively try to hide the fact that he's coming out of number six, but he doesn't advertise it, either, slipping out quietly and crossing to number seven. he climbs the steps and knocks sharply twice, then steps back.

in person, he's.. small, almost fragile-looking, narrow-boned and skinny, with glasses that make his eyes look too large in his face and scars covering a fair bit of his visible skin. he's also gone pretty grey, despite the fact that he has to be still in his early thirties, and.. honestly, he has the most intense stare of maybe any human being that's ever existed. ]

John Constantine? I'm Jonathan Sims. We just spoke. [ the name just came to him, but.. it's easy to assume he found it through other means. the network isn't exactly a discreet place, after all. ]

[constantdick]

[John's ready to go when the knock sounds, being only a few seconds away from standing out on the front steps waiting for the other man to arrive. Opening the door, he promptly steps outside, there being no point in inviting him in after all. When he speaks, his accent's a combination of Liverpool and London.]

Yeah, that's right.

[He's not a big man himself, standing at 5'10" with a slender build that's more wiry than muscular, not that it's readily apparent, being covered up by a trench coat. He doesn't think anything about his name being known, as that's easily researchable on the network.]

The pub's down this way. You in the mood for a short walk or should I open up a portal?